


Home

by theimpossiblegeekygrrl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Community: hprarefest, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied/Referenced Underage, Masturbation, Miscarriage, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimpossiblegeekygrrl/pseuds/theimpossiblegeekygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on the road with the Harpies, a lonely Ginny remembers the path that led her to the man that is her home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

_Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!_

 

Ginny groaned and rolled over, pulling one of the soft pillows over her head. The scent of unfamiliar laundry soap filled her nose, tugging her mind firmly away from her dreams of being home. She had been snuggled in her husband’s warm embrace, his hands doing things to make her --

 

_Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!_

 

"Sod off," she grumbled.

 

_Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!_

 

"Fine! Miserable little demon." She sat up and turned to the window, glaring at the barn owl outside who was, in turn, glaring at her. Grabbing her robe from the nearby chair, she got out of bed and wrapped herself in the warm green flannel.

 

_Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!_

 

"I'm moving as quickly as I can, unless you want me to flash my breasts to the whole city!"

 

Two Sickles glinted on the worn dresser. One of them would work for a tip, she decided, grabbing it before she walked to the window. The rusty hinges groaned with the force it took her to open the ancient pane. She finally managed it, earning a sharp nip from the impatient bird.

 

"Ow! You're lucky to get this with that attitude," she said, putting the Sickle in the bird's small leg pouch. Ginny snatched the package it carried and slammed the window shut, ignoring the screeches from both the window and from the angry owl as she closed the heavy velvet drapes.

 

Putting the brown wrapped parcel on the bed, she removed her robe and sighed. The cool air from the room perked her skin back to attention and tempered the slick heat between her thighs that had been brought forth by some very torrid dreams. It made her miss Severus all the more––these long tours with the Harpies were hard enough with a demanding schedule and the pressure to perform. Longing for him made it unbearable at times. She wanted his head between her thighs, his hands slapping and pinching her skin, his teeth scraping at her neck.

 

Ginny shivered, a reminder that she was nude. The fire in the hearth was now merely ash, but instead of rekindling it, she crawled back into bed, casting Warming Charms over the heavy quilts that she pulled tightly around her.

 

Remembering the package, she grabbed it and looked at it properly, noting for the first time the fine scrawl that she knew better than her own hand:

 

_Madame Ginevra Molly Snape._

 

  
She tore into the package as eagerly as a child on Christmas morning, noting the scent of sandalwood and smoke that lingered on the paper. Inside, wrapped with infinite care in a linen handkerchief that bore her husband's initials, was a red hair ribbon, a little dull with age but still silky smooth when she touched it.

 

A note lay with it, written in the same copperplate hand.

 

_I wouldn't want you to have the same problem with Moose Jaw tomorrow that you seemed to have with Falmouth last night, Madame Snape._

 

  
Ginny smiled, her lips curling in a fashion very reminiscent of Severus's. She kissed the parchment before laying on the bedside table, and in a moment of whimsy, tied her hair back with her old ribbon, feeling the old charm secure every last strand of her titian hair just as tightly as it had in school.

 

Laying her head against the now cool pillow, she closed her eyes and felt the pull of sleep mixed with the sweetness of memory as she let her hand slide between her legs.

 

___________________

 

  
_Was it possible to scrub a cauldron furiously?_

_It had to be, because that was how she felt, and that was also exactly how Ginny was going about cleaning all of the wretched cauldrons in the dank dungeon classroom._

_She shouldn't even have to be doing this, she thought, huffing a little as she dipped her brush back into the bucket of hot water. Snape was Headmaster now, and these weren't even his cauldrons anymore! If she had detentions in the dungeons, it should be Professor Slughorn passing them out and monitoring them. But no. Snape was the one who was glowering at her from behind his parchments, occasionally narrowing his eyes at her when she had to push her hair back behind her ears._

_She had lost her hair tie on the way to detention, and as angry as she was for having to serve her time, it she hadn't noticed that it missing until she was at the door and almost late. Ginny's long, fiery red hair was now damp with sweat, angering her even more. It was well past curfew, meaning she wouldn't be able to stop by the bathrooms and have a proper shower after. A Cleansing Charm wouldn't rid her of this grimy feeling, or rid her of the odour of the dungeon that was stuck in her nose._

_Or of Snape's lingering scent––clove cigarettes, sandalwood, and something sweet, like..._

_"Come here, Miss Weasley," Snape said, his voice crisp and cold, cutting through the silence._

_Ginny looked up and nodded, trying not to glare at him as she stood and walked to the desk where he sat. "Yes, Headmaster?" she asked._

_"You knew you were scrubbing cauldrons today. Is there a reason why you chose not to secure your hair as you would in class?"_

_Ginny looked directly into his black, expressionless eyes when she answered. "My hair tie fell out on the way here, sir, and I didn't have time to retrieve it."_

_Snape's thin lower lip twitched slightly, but otherwise his face remained completely impassive when he reached into his pocket and produced a scarlet red ribbon. Standing and moving to her side in a fluid motion, he combed her damp strands away from her face and neck with his fingers almost tenderly._

_Oddly, the moment his flesh touched hers, Ginny had to struggle to breathe, her heart pounding so hard she wondered if he could see it through her jumper._

_Peppermints. He smelled of peppermints, her favourite. How had she never noticed that before?_

_"What perfume do you wear, Miss Weasley?" he asked, still running his fingers through her hair._

_"I, er… I don't, sir. My shampoo is scented with honeysuckles."_

_"Honeysuckles," he repeated, his voice trailing off as he secured her hair with the ribbon._

_Ginny looked at him over her shoulder, catching his eyes as he lowered his hands to her upper arms._

_"Not a strand of hair will leave that ribbon while it's tied," he remarked softly._

_"Thank you, sir."_

_"It would be helpful if we can ever start Quidditch again, once this is over," he said. Finished with the task, her turned her around, probably not expecting to come face to face with her wrath._

_"That's up to you and your master, now isn't it?" Ginny snapped before she could stop herself._

  
_Snape's eyes flared briefly, sparks flying within the calm façade. For the first time in recent memory––since her first year really––Ginny felt terrified. And yet in her terror, she also felt completely..._

_Exhilarated._

_The danger this man exuded, her hatred of him, and her anger towards everything he stood for made her feel completely alive. Perhaps it was being so far from the Dementors. They were in one of the Potions rooms that Slughorn never used, as it was too shabby for his taste, well underneath the depths of the Black Lake._

_Whatever it was, she wanted more of it._

_"Bastard Death Eater," she whispered. The sparks became flames that furiously crackled in the wells of darkness that he was trying to control._

_His hands hadn't left her arms; indeed, with her heated words his grip on her tightened to the point of pain. Ginny bit her lip as she should have bitten her tongue earlier, but it didn't stop the small hiss of delight that escaped her mouth when his fingers dug into her delicate skin._

_"Didn't Molly your mother tell you what happens when you play with fire, Ginny?" Snape asked, his voice a mere whisper._

_"Show me, sir."_

___________________

 

  
"Severus," Ginny moaned, her body quaking under the heavy bedding as she remembered their first, forbidden kiss. Her clitoris pulsed between her slick fingers, her body tingling with pleasure as the thoughts of his teeth on her lips and his tongue searching her mouth filled her mind.

 

Though she fought to lengthen her orgasm or perhaps come again, it faded quickly without her husband's hands urging her on. With a heavy sigh, she rolled over and laid on what would have been his side of the bed if he was there with her. And, even though it shouldn't have been possible, Ginny thought that she faintly detected the scent of peppermint buried in the pillow where he could have been.

 

___________________

 

  
The Harpies beat Moose Jaw, of course.

 

And perhaps they would have, regardless of the package that Ginny had gotten the night before. Her teammates had teased her about the girlish ribbon that she used to tie back her hair for the game, but for some reason, that little reminder of home, and the past, made her play harder.

 

Only five more games, and she would be back in Severus's arms.

 

___________________

 

  
_Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!_

 

"Oh, bloody hell," Ginny sighed.

 

It had been a week since the first owl had woken her, but at least this time she wasn't already in bed, thank Merlin. Unable to sleep, she'd been sitting by the fire with the latest edition of Witch Weekly and a bottle of Butterbeer, looking through Rita Skeeter's gossip column. It seemed Harry and Pansy were finally getting married, if Skeeter's sources were correct.

 

Even though she and Harry had never officially been together before the war, he'd taken her sudden absence of affections extremely hard. It had been a relief when the Aurors had hired him without requiring him to complete his education. Ginny wasn't shallow enough not to understand why Harry had been so hurt. Honestly, her changing emotions for Severus during that last year of the war had kept her awake many, many nights. She called herself a deceiver, a betrayer, a turn coat -- any horrible name that she could think of.

 

Professor Dumbledore's portrait had confided the truth to her, one night when she was waiting for Severus to come and monitor yet another of her detentions. Up until then, they had only shared that one angry kiss in the dungeon which had ended in her slapping him soundly. But that night, when he slammed his office door shut and saw her tears of sadness for his long suffering devotion, his mask dropped away, and Ginny finally got to see the man behind the sneers and hurtful words for herself.

 

The crush she'd felt for Harry evaporated completely.

  
_Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!_

 

Ginny jumped, shaking herself out of her reverie. She got up from her chair, tossing the magazine on the lumpy bed.

 

"Sorry," she said, opening the window. "Would you like to come inside and warm up? I could stoke the fire."

 

The bird shook its head, but hooted favourably when he spotted the half eaten bacon sandwich on the dressing table.

 

Ginny smiled and grabbed a few pieces of the crispy meat, along with a Sickle from her handbag. "Here," she said, giving the owl the treat and tip after taking her parcel. He gave her an appreciative hoot, as well as a sharp nip, before flying away into the snowy night.

 

"Now what?" she asked, giggling as she returned to the comfortable chair by the fire. This package was larger than the last, and heavier at that. She opened it quickly, biting her lip when she saw what was inside.

 

Dragonhide gloves. Black. Charmed to fit the wearer perfectly, the highest quality one could find. Lucius had given them to Severus as a gift after he received his Mark, she remembered him telling her that once. He didn't wear them that often anymore, only when he wanted to --

 

"Severus," she sighed, bringing the gloves to her cheek.

 

Ginny caught his scent on the leather and closed her eyes, putting them on her own hands. The gloves moulded to her perfectly, just as they were made to. She opened her robe, exposing her naked skin as she let her hands roam over her body, pretending they were his -- wanting and needing them to be his. Starting with her neck, her hands -- his hands -- slipped down to the curve of her breasts, squeezing roughly before sliding down further.

 

___________________

 

_She'd been watching him, day in and day out, ever since the night that Dumbledore had told her the truth about Headmaster Snape's loyalties. Even though he was rarely seen anymore by most of the students, except at meals, Ginny always seemed to know where to find him -- what corner to cut just in time, what staircase to take in order to catch his dark eyes with her own bright gaze. It was as though she had a copy of the Marauder's Map etched in her mind, with only the footprints of Professor Severus Snape for her to follow._

_To cover for her actions, Ginny had told Neville and the rest of the DA that she was spying on Snape, hoping to overhear any information regarding Luna's whereabouts. Even though it wasn't completely untrue, her cheeks burned with the thought that she was using the disappearance of her best friend just so that she could watch a man who she couldn't seem to stop thinking or dreaming of -- even fantasizing of when she was supposed to be paying attention in class. She imagined that Luna might understand, and in fact would have encouraged her to do just this very thing._

_This time, Ginny found him with the Carrows, not far from the Room of Requirement after the Valentine's Day feast. The school had been painfully drab that year, compared to all the years past when it had been alight with colour, music, and sweet teenaged emotions. The students hadn't even exchanged notes, and trips to Hogsmeade were now just fond memories. Her own heart had been painfully lurching, not aching for Harry as it had done for the six years previous. No, this year -- this odd, painful year of oppression -- it was still aching, but for the hurt she knew lingered in the man who sat not twenty feet from her at dinner, supping on a meal similar to hers as he stared vaguely into space or at his raspberry tarts._

_It was everything she could do to contain herself and not go to him, rub her pale hands over his creased face and feed him his meal as though he were an exhausted child needing his mother, for that was exactly what he looked like to her._

_To everyone else, judging by their harsh whispers, he was still the same resolute, hard man he'd always been._

_But not to Ginny. Never again would she be fooled by the mask that she knew he wore._

_"I am to do this myself, you two imbeciles! By the Dark Lord's own command," Snape said, looming over the two smaller figures who shrank in his shadow. "I would advise you to stop vying for his favour and watch over the school, as is your mandate, until I return. Am I clear, or do we need to go to his own side for further instruction?"_

_"No, Headmaster," Alecto said, glancing at her brother nervously._

_"We'll begin our rounds," Amycus agreed. He jerked his head at his twin, and together they rounded the corner, their steps rapidly trailing off as though they had broken into a sprint the second they were out of sight._

_"Worthless idiots," Snape muttered, rubbing his face. "You may show yourself, Miss Weasley. I know you are hiding behind the statue of Jarek the Impossible."_

_"Shite!" she whispered, startling so much when he said her name that she knocked her head into the statue's outstretched arm. Rubbing her sore temple, she rounded the corner, slowly revealing herself to him as a bundle of nerves settled into the pit of her belly._

_Ginny's breath caught in her throat when he properly came into view. She realized that she hadn't seen him properly before -- just his back, covered in a heavy black robe that she'd thought to be his regular teaching robes. Now that she was closer, and Snape had turned to look at her, she saw that he was in heavy, blacker than black robes, blacker than black, that identified him as a Death Eater. His silver mask was even in his gloved hand, dangling lazily to the side as though it were merely an old quill and not an item that marked him as one of the most dangerous figures in their world._

_The nerves in her stomach disappeared when he walked towards her, smirking down at her like a cat who'd just gotten the cream. A delicious thrill replaced it, not quite fear, but more than it was. She sighed, her body trembling slightly when their eyes met, his black robes almost enveloping her when his hand reached out to touch her face._

_"You're bleeding," he murmured._

_"I … hit my head, sir," she said, wincing when he slid his fingertips over the small cut._

_"I heard," Snape chuckled, his eyes glittering. He began to speak; his deep voice incanting spells she'd never heard before. Warmth spread over Ginny's head, and presently she realized that her head no longer hurt. Even the thin trickle of blood disappeared. "Better?" he asked._

_"Yes. Thank you sir," she said, trying not to squeak. The warmth in her head had spread, and she knew it had nothing to do with any spell on his part. She remembered the heat from when he kissed her before; it had burned from her burning cheeks to her groin. Her knickers … she bit her lip at the memory of the dampness she’d found there later that night._

_Sparks flared in his eyes, like a fire that was crackling to life. "Oh, Ginny. Do you like slumming it with bastard Death Eaters like me?" He leaned down to her ear, his breath as hot as the flush on her cheeks when he whispered, "I can smell just how excited you are, so don't even think about lying to me."_

_Ginny couldn't breathe, especially when she felt his tongue quickly lick the shell of her ear, barely tracing the sensitized flesh. She felt cool stones against her back and realized she was against the wall, his lean torso pressing into hers. A shudder, then a shiver, made her body quake with mild fear and something more exciting._

_Oh, Merlin help her, but the boys she had dated had never made her feel this way!_

_Not even Harry, with the few brief kisses they had shared. Those had been sweet, but had honestly reminded Ginny of what it might feel like to kiss one of her brothers, or maybe Neville. They hadn't made her feel hungry, made her knees knock together, or made her needing more -- wanting more._

_Not like this man did._

  
_"Answer me," he demanded, nipping at the lobe with his sharp teeth, eliciting a shocked cry of pleasure from her lips._

 

_"I like it," Ginny whispered, crying out again when he sucked the bitten skin into her mouth, laving it better with his tongue. Her legs weakened, threatening to give way, but quick as a panther, he knew. His mask falling to the floor, completely forgotten, Snape grabbed her thighs, lifting her until their hips were flush together._

 

_"Wrap your legs around me before you fall," he said, his voice husky and low, like smoke and fire. Like what Ginny imagined sex would sound like._

 

_She did so, her body settling against his, their hips fitting together like two interlocking pieces of the same puzzle. She marvelled over it, and the glorious feeling of his surprisingly strong body supporting hers, until she felt his hips shift, lifting his groin to meet the damp centre of her knickers. Ginny could feel him, every terrifying long, hard inch of him, pressing against her._

 

_"That's what vivacious little Gryffindors like you do to me," Snape bit out, punctuating every word with a slight thrust of his hips against hers._

 

_"All of us… mmmm… do this to you, sir?" she asked._

 

_Moving away from her ear, he gazed deeply into her eyes, resting his forehead against hers. "Just you," he growled softly. His hands drifted to her bum, sliding under her skirts to caress the soft skin that was only covered with a thin layer of delicate, white cotton. "No stockings?"_

 

_"It's late. Don't like wearing them," she admitted, her breath hitching when his fingers dipped under the waistband of her knickers._

 

_"Hmmm … I'll remember," Snape said. "Have you ever fucked one of the little boys I've seen you with?"_

 

_"No," she said, turning red as her blush deepened._

 

_"Have you every sucked a man's cock?"_

 

_"Not a man's," Ginny said, trying to tease._

_The hands on her arse pinched, both of them cruelly pinching both globes, making her wince in pain. "A straight answer, if you would."_

 

_"Yes," she sighed, relief rushing through her when the pain ended and the hands were only rubbing her again. But, just as suddenly, one hand moved to her face, and his leather encased forefinger slipped into her partially opened mouth._

 

_"Show me how you do it," he said. "How would you suck a Death Eater's cock, if he asked?"_

 

_Ginny didn't even know who she was anymore when she sucked her Headmaster's finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip, all while his hips snapped against hers and his free hand roamed over her body. But she knew that whoever she had become, she never wanted it to stop._

 

___________________

 

The orgasm was violent, soul-consuming, just as the first one he had wrought from her had been all those years ago had been. Her pussy clenched around her fingers, drenching the leather with the slick desire brought on by her memories.

 

"Sir!" she moaned, even though she hadn't addressed her husband that way in over a decade, since the war ended. "I'm coming, sir! I'm … Oh, MERLIN!"

  
___________________

  
In the morning, after stretching her sore muscles and taking a well-earned soak in the bath next door, she would find the note that had fluttered to the floor, unnoticed in her haste.

 

_I trust you'll put these to good use, Madame Snape._

 

___________________

 

  
Two weeks later, Ginny was finally home, Apparating just outside the main gates so that she could surprise her husband.

 

The Harpies wouldn't be moving to the Champion's League this year, but they'd had a good showing nonetheless, and had everything to be proud of. Chin held high, Ginny walked through the gates, feeling the wards trickle slightly to signal him that she was here.

 

So much for a surprise. She shook her head, knowing it didn't really matter. She was home -- home! -- back with the man she loved. It was what her heart had been longing for this past month, and now to finally be here made her have to fight every girlish impulse to drop her suitcase and run up the steps, throw open the doors and fling herself into his arms. But, like the lady she had become, she walked up through the gardens with deliberate grace, plotting every single step as Snape Manor grew nearer.

 

It was the home they inhabited when school was out, where Severus could be himself and where they could enjoy each other with abandon and without the worry of a Head of House or the Board of Governor's coming to him with a problem.

 

After the truth about his loyalties had come out, after the war, he had been asked to return as Headmaster, despite their relationship. Severus had called it restitution for his injuries and previously tarnished name, but he hadn't complained. Too loudly, at least.

 

Ginny had known that once his task had been over that it was a position that he would finally enjoy occupying. After his convalescence and recovery from Nagini's attack, they had returned to Hogwarts––on one condition, the only thing he had asked for in his new contract.

 

Ginny would be allowed to complete her N.E.W.T.s with her class, even though she was now Madame Snape.

 

___________________

 

  
They had married as soon as she had come of age, in a small ceremony at St Mungo's that had only been attended by Hermione, Luna, and the Malfoys. Her brothers, along with Fleur, waited outside, warding off any who might not choose to wish the couple well. Ginny had worn red, the colour of her house, not knowing what else would fit a seventeen-year-old war bride whose stomach was already becoming round with a child who had been conceived the night of the Battle of Hogwarts.

 

Severus had been the reason she'd been so desperate to return to the school -- it hadn't solely been the desperation to fight. Ginny had been frightened that she might never see him again, that he might be killed. They'd found each other, not long after everyone had thought that he'd escaped. Their first coupling had been frantic, against the same wall where she'd suckled his finger until he'd come in his trousers just a few months before.

 

Her parents had been too incensed by Ginny's pregnancy to even acknowledge the wedding, something that still angered Severus to this day, even though he'd agreed not to hold it against them. But when the child (a girl that she'd wanted to name Lilith) had come early, too early for the Healers to save, and the difficult birth had almost taken Ginny's life the same day, Molly and Arthur had finally rushed to their daughter's and new son-in-law's side.

 

Ginny had been all but living at St Mungo's with him, and during her own recovery, she was finally able to share a room with her new husband for the first time since their odd relationship began that night while she was scrubbing cauldrons during detention. The Healers even extended his bed for him to share with her, allowing him to hold her when the tears over their loss became too much for her to bear.

 

As dark and dangerous as she'd always found him to be in the years before, the man she began to know during that time had surprised her in his gentleness and care. Not that he wasn't a git or an arsehole––he continued to show it in every snide comment and rude gesture he made when one of the staff told him what to do or denied him the right to brew his own potions.

 

It made her love him all the more, knowing that he had a goodness that he saved for her. Just as he had saved his robes ... just for her.

 

For when she was very, very good.

 

___________________

 

  
Their bedroom was as black as pitch when she opened the door. Leaving her bag in the hall, she fumbled for her wand, feeling it slip from her hand as she grabbed it from the sleeve of her black travelling robes. It hit the hard wood floor, skittering in the direction of her dressing table from the sound of it.

 

"Buggering thing," she muttered. Not wanting to waste her energy on wandless magic, she turned to open the door wider and let in more light, just as it slammed shut in her face. The room was now so dark that she could not see her hand in front of her.

  
"Good afternoon, Madame Snape."

 

Ginny could hear his low, sensual voice all around her. His scent filled her nostrils, making her mouth dry as her pussy dampened. Her breath came in quick, whistling pants as she tried to sense where he was with no avail.

 

"This is the longest we've been apart since you were forced into hiding during the war," he said slowly, each word punctuated by an echoing footstep.

 

Every muscle in her body tensed with desire when she felt Severus behind her, his warmth drawing her to him. Ginny leaned against him, her muscular back meeting his lean chest, fitting into it as perfectly as a stopper would a potion flask. Sighing happily, she reached around for him, finding the heavy, dense wool that belonged to only one garment in his possession.

 

"Still enjoy slumming with a bastard Death Eater?" he murmured, his gloved hand dipping inside the bodice of her robes.

 

"Yes, sir," she whispered, turning her face up to accept his hungry kiss, a giggle bubbling in her throat when his mask fell to the floor.

 

“Madame Snape … are you sure absence hasn’t made your heart grow foolish?” he whispered into her ear before nibbling it. She shook her head and squirmed, gasping for air when his tongue swiped at her heated skin. With a chuckle, Severus pressed against her firmly, letting her feel the solid erection between his thighs. He grabbed her legs and lifted her as though she were weightless. “Wrap your legs around me.”

 

The rightness, the perfection of the way they fit together moved her more now than it had when she was a girl. Ginny bit her lip, trying not to cry out when a hand slid over her arse, stroking her bare flesh.

 

“No knickers? Foolish indeed, wife,” he said. A few movements and quickly muttered words, and his cock was free, pressing against her before thrusting --

 

“Home,” she cried out with joy, kissing his lips as they began to move together.

 

“ _Home_ ,” he agreed, his voice thick not only with desire, but with love. “Where you belong.”


End file.
